


Queen of Orchids

by theparadoxicalfox, TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Flush [36]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abduction, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Molly Takes Things Into Her Own Hands, Murder of Bad Men, The Police Are Useless, There is Murder Instead of Anything On-Screen, Using Foxglove and a Knife as Poison, it's a good combo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theparadoxicalfox/pseuds/theparadoxicalfox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: The series of events that led Molly to start the Orchids.
Series: Royal Flush [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/699969
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	Queen of Orchids

**Author's Note:**

> I promise, 100%, that there is no rape or non-con featured in this. They do talk about it happening pre-story, which is why the tag is there. However, if you want to skip the two paragraphs for the "attempted" tag, there will be five asterisks (*****) before and after them, with murder immediately following. Be careful and know your limits.

_ October 1917 _

She shouldn’t have taken the shortcut. She shouldn’t have left so late, but she’d been so caught up in reading that she’d lost track of time. She shouldn’t have decided to duck through alleys to make up time.

She should have screamed sooner, or fought back harder, or remembered to bring her knife.

Or, at least, that was what the police would later tell her, as if any of that would have stopped what happened.

And now she was tied up and gagged with the sound of the ocean filling her ears, and the smells of salt and of lantern oil and the heavy stench of tar invading her nose.

Nobody had bothered talking to her. They probably didn’t want her recognizing their voices on the off-chance she escaped.

“Off-chance,” she mentally corrected herself.

Molly narrowed her eyes out of spite at those thoughts, moving her hands behind her back to try and wriggle the rope around her wrists loose. She’d been doing it for hours, however long it had taken them to take her here and throw her in this dark room. She didn’t care what the chances were.

She was going to get out, or she was going to die trying.

♣♥♠♦

It was hard to think after you’d been beaten within an inch of your life. Molly grimaced and coughed, spitting blood into the dirt and gravel that made up the walled-in backyard of this house.

“You didn’t need to do that,” a young woman’s voice said quietly. “Now you’re all hurt.”

Molly turned to glance at the young woman and shrugged one shoulder, grinning despite her cut and bleeding lips. “I’d rather this than be sent into the client rooms.”

“Mmm, I can see that.” The young woman walked over. “What’s your name?”

“Molly. You?”

“You can call me Krism.” She turned to look at the wall towering above them. “It’s got another six feet of iron on top of it. Even if you can climb the bricks, the iron is too tall to get over.”

“I can see that.” Molly squinted at the wall, then began slowly walking the perimeter. “What’re you out here for?” Nobody was just allowed into the backyard, after all. It was a punishment. Most of the other ladies here never spent more than one night out in the elements before begging to be let back in and deal with what was being forced on them, but Molly was stubborn. This was her third offense; her third night out in the October weather.

“Spilled a drink on one of the high-paying visitors.”

Molly glanced at her. “Accidentally?”

Krism grinned sharply.

Molly grinned back.

“So, what’re you looking for?” Krism fell into step beside her. “I can’t imagine three times out here in a week and a half is exactly an accident, either.”

“I’m trying to find a specific plant.” Molly frowned at the weeds and wildflowers springing up at the base of the wall, some climbing the brick. “Or, one of several kinds.”

Krism raised an eyebrow, but let her continue.

“I’m hoping there are some... medicinal plants out here, in the weeds.”

“For your injuries. Makes sense.”

Molly grunted noncommittally, scanning the plants. She’d thought she’d recognized one last time, but...

“Here.” She pulled some of the other plants out of the way, revealing a thick bush of flowers. “I thought I saw it earlier.”

Krism looked at the plant and the wilting blooms, eyes slowly widening. “That’s a foxglove.”

Molly nodded, then hesitated. Could she trust Krism? It was the first time they’d spoken. They’d hardly even seen each other before now, and it would be easy enough to lie... She  _ could _ be working for the men inside, trying to get info on Molly.

And yet... something deep inside her said she could trust Krism.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Krism looked up, blinking. “I’m- of course. I didn’t volunteer for this. None of us did.”

Molly nodded gravely, stepping back from the foxglove and allowing the weeds to cover it up again--quite a feat, considering how tall foxgloves got. “I’m going to get out of here. You want to join me?”

Krism hesitated, likely having the same thoughts as Molly had moments before, before nodding firmly. “I do.” She walked over to a clear spot in the yard and sat with her back to the house. “Do you have a plan?”

Molly sat next to her, wincing as her body complained.

“I’m working on it. Why, do you have any ideas?”

Krism hesitated again, looking up at something Molly couldn’t see. “...That depends on a lot of things.” She looked over, eyes piercing. “Can I trust you?”

“Yes.” She didn’t know if she could get out of here alive. “Krism- I promise, I will get you, me, and every one of the ladies here away from this godforsaken place.” She definitely didn’t know if she could fulfill that promise. “If necessary, I will die trying.” 

♣♥♠♦

The plan took time to put together. Molly was rarely allowed out in the front room, since she was “too brash” for the men that stopped by. The advantage to that was she hadn’t yet been hired out, which was fantastic. She didn’t want to have to tell Wade about… anything like that—or Felix, since he was her friend and he would know something had happened.

Krism, though, was a master at the front room, and gathering information. She was clearly irritated by the men, likely more than she let on, but she always said she was fine. And because of her and her snooping, they knew it was the 25th of October. Also that, several miles out from the house, was a gate to the road that was locked unless an approved visitor was coming through, and that the keys were kept on the person of whichever guard was on gate duty that day.

“Aren’t you ever worried that people won’t miss you back home?” Molly asked as she and Krism carefully gathered the foxglove, their bare skin protected with gloves they’d stolen from Molly’s post in the kitchen. “That they care, but that they’ve already moved on.”

“No.” Krism shrugged one shoulder. “Not really.” She glanced at Molly. “I know there’s someone looking for me. What about you?”

“My best friend has probably realized I’m missing, but people hardly take him seriously.” She stared at the harvested foxglove on the napkin between the two of them. “My boyfriend is at war, so...” She shook her head. “My parents are out of town for another few weeks. They won’t have realized yet.”

Krism hummed softly. “I see.” She picked another foxglove. “Is your friend likely to throw a fuss about you being missing?”

“He might.” Molly shrugged. “I don’t know what he’d do about it, though. He’s definitely smart enough to not go looking for me by himself.”

“Could he hire someone?”

Molly raised her eyebrows, thinking about the times Felix had offered to get her something she’d wanted but couldn’t afford. “Probably.” She also thought about the time he’d spent several minutes trying to open a door in the wrong direction. “I don’t know if he’s realized that’s an option.” She shook her head. “Even if he did, like I said, people don’t tend to take him very seriously.”

“Is he your age?”

Molly nodded.

“Well, that’s why.” Krism tilted her head. “I’m.... Look, if we can get rid of the men guarding us, then I’m sure we can search the house and find the gate key.” She frowned. “I don’t think the other ladies will be much help—they’re too terrified to do much.”

Molly grimly looked at the foxgloves again. “They have to.” She rose to her knees, bundling the handkerchief neatly, and hurried over to the kitchen window she’d propped open earlier that day. She slid the flowers in, then carefully pulled off her gloves. “I’ll talk to them the next chance we get.” She turned back to Krism, expression set in determination. “They’ll listen.”

♣♥♠♦

“We’re going to get out of here.”

Molly would whisper the words hundreds of times over the next few days, stealing moments as she brushed past one of the other ladies. All of them had been stolen from their homes and lives, after all. All of them had something to return to. They were all just too terrified of the men guarding the house, of the guns they carried and the power they held.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

By the second day, ladies would come to her in the kitchen, asking quietly if she was sure, if she had a plan. Not all of them were convinced, and despite her words to Krism, Molly wasn’t sure all of them ever would be. But still, some came, and some asked. Some even asked what they could do.

And so the foxgloves were hidden away safely, and those on kitchen duty would quietly take moments to slowly strip them down into leaves and petals, where they were then disguised as any other tea leaf, marked with a symbol none of the men would recognize if they bothered to look.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

Those willing to do so took a deep breath to steel themselves, then walked up to the guards and slowly began to distract them, to flirt without ever saying anything. It was all an act, all a lie, of course—because none of them could ever feel anything for the guards but disgust and hatred—but an effective one.

It took a few nights, but they learned that when it wasn’t actively being used, the gate key was kept in the front coat closet—during the day, at least. At night, it rested around the neck of the man running the whole show, the one who profited from their suffering.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

The man in charge. The Warden, as he was called through clenched teeth and tears streaming down faces. A truly disgusting man, for several reasons, including being the kind of man who would orchestrate this kind of place.

Through hushed whispers and quiet glances at the distracted guards, Molly learned of the things he had done. The punishment for defying him to his face, as if spending an increasing number of nights out in the elements wasn’t punishment enough. And somehow, the knowledge that he would drag ladies to his room and break them himself was unsurprising… but no less horrifying.

The knowledge that he liked a cup of tea afterwards, tea he forced his victim to bring up with her and serve to him, was vital.

“We’re going to get out of here.”

Knowing that she could never live with herself if she made someone else do the deed that needed to be done... Molly supposed she would have to accept that. She wouldn’t tell Felix when she got home, though he wasn’t stupid. He’d guess sooner or later.

She’d have to tell Wade, eventually. She didn’t know how.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Krism murmured, not looking up from mending a torn dress. “One of the others would do it for you.”

A few very hesitant nods came from around the room.

Molly shook her head. “No, I can’t do that to you. You’ve all been through enough.” She straightened her shoulders. “Besides, even if one of you were willing to do this, I don’t think any of you would have the stomach to finish the job.” She swallowed. “I snuck up to his room today while he was out at the gate and tucked a knife under his wardrobe. The foxglove won’t kill him fast enough. I’m ready to do what needs to be done to get us out of here, without him calling the alarm.” She took a deep breath and looked around, meeting the eyes of the ladies she’d gotten to know over the past few weeks. “Once I go up, I need you all to stick to the rest of the plan.”

Krism nodded firmly, something unreadable in her eyes. “What if he makes you drink the foxglove tea with him?”

Molly closed her eyes. She’d never get to see her friends or family again. She wouldn’t get to see Wade come home from the war.

“Then you’d better get me to a doctor as quickly as possible.” Molly opened her eyes. “Several of the guards have vehicles. We’ll steal one if we need to.” She grinned weakly at Krism. “I’m counting on you for that.”

“We’ll make sure it’s done.” Krism tilted her head slightly. “Does this mean we’re ready?”

“As we’ll ever be.” Molly took a deep breath. “We’re going to get out of here.”

♣♥♠♦

It didn’t take much to anger the Warden. Not for Molly, who was already on his short list due to her refusal to cooperate. And she didn’t blame the other ladies for giving up for so long, either. Survival was important, and sometimes that means not antagonizing people.

Other times, it meant slamming a door on the Warden’s hand.

So here she was, boiling water for the foxglove tea, a guard watching her impassionately, knowing that as soon as she threw in the leaves to steep that she would be forcibly escorted upstairs to the Warden’s room, where he would try to break her.

She didn’t know if he would succeed. He might.

She was still going to kill him for even trying. She would kill him again if he succeeded.

Hopefully.

The kettle whistled, and she carefully poured the water into the teapot, adding plenty of the foxglove before putting the cap on. Then, with a gun at her back and dozens of eyes watching in silence, she climbed up the stairs to the Warden’s room.

*****

The door closed firmly behind her, and she pointedly set the tea tray at a table under a window, a window that overlooked the back garden. When given the quiet order to undress, the Warden pointedly loading a gun, she moved over next to the wardrobe and complied, pointedly folding her clothes and setting them down neatly. She ignored his looks, his ugly words.

Quickly, quietly, Molly grabbed the knife, and, when the Warden began to strip off his own clothes, she moved closer—and when there was only a step left between her and the Warden, she plunged the knife into his neck.

*****

He made a sound, so she yanked it out and stabbed again.

And again.

In fact, she wasn’t exactly sure how many times she’d stabbed him by the time he fell still. Just that his blood coated her (and the sheets, and the wall) and it was disgusting.

She hastily wiped herself down with some of his clothes from the wardrobe, then scrambled to pull her dress back over her. She definitely hadn’t gotten all of the blood, but at this point she didn’t really care.

From there, it was easy to snag the key from around the dead Warden’s neck. She didn’t bother wiping the blood from it, mostly because everything she could have used was already bloody and wouldn’t have done much.

A gunshot rang out from downstairs.

Molly turned and ran down the stairs.

Who had fired? Who was dead? Was it a guard, or was it one of the ladies? If a guard was about to pull a gun on her, there was nothing she could do to stop him from pulling the trigger-

Another gunshot.

Molly whipped around the last turn in the stairs to come to a skidding stop as she took in the main room in front of her. Guards were dead on the floor, blood pooling from their bodies. There was a gun pointed at her.

Krism lowered the gun, sighing in relief. “You have the key?”

Molly held it up.

Krism nodded and turned to the group of ladies peeking in from around the place. “Alright, ladies. Let’s get out of here.”

♣♥♠♦

The bitter November air blew hard against Molly’s face as she evaluated the situation. They’d stolen what money they could—though describing it as “stolen” seemed unfair given that they’d been the ones to work for it—and most of them were now sitting in the stolen car, trying to figure out what to do.

A few had already left without explanation. They’d begun walking towards nearby cities, claiming they needed the time to think about their future and how to pick up their lives again. They’d probably be fine, given that they’d taken the coats from the guards in the house and some food from the kitchen, so Molly was trying hard not to worry about them.

There were six of them left.

“How much money is there?”

The words broke the silence in the car, startling Molly out of her thoughts.

“Almost three hundred.”

All six of them sucked in a breath. That was more than Molly would make in a month seamstressing.

“Okay.” Molly lifted her head, twisting around to stare at the other four in the backseat. “Where’s home for you?”

A long silence before one of them raised her hand. “Sacramento. California.”

Molly let out a long breath. “They took you that far?”

“It’s been eight years.”

The matter-of-fact way she said that hurt something deep inside Molly. 

“Do you want to go back?”

She nodded. “I... had a boyfriend. I... don’t think he waited, he probably thinks I’m dead, but... I want to let him know I’m alive. I want to see my sister again.”

“Okay.” Molly glanced at the other three. “Who else needs a train ticket?”

Two more hands went up. Chicago, for one. The other, Philadelphia.

“Where’s home for you?” She turned her attention to the last woman in the back.

She shrugged slightly. “I don’t know.”

Everyone glanced at her, except for Krism, who was still driving and needed her eyes on the road.

“I mean... I grew up in London, but my parents disowned me and my brother died on the front lines. I don’t have anywhere to go.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what my next step is.”

Molly nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“...You can stay with me.” Krism said. “My friend and I... we can take you in, at least for a little while.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I can’t promise we can keep it up for long, but it’ll help get your feet under you, and she’ll be okay with that.” Krism glanced at Molly. “She’ll want to meet you, too, Moll.”

Molly tried for a smile. She didn’t think either of them blamed her for its shakiness.

Krism glanced at her for a long moment, pausing as they came to an intersection. They were almost to Boston now, though the streets were fairly quiet this late at night.

“What about you?” Krism asked. “What are you going to do?”

Molly stared straight ahead, taking in the familiar city and the streets she’d grown up on. “There are other places like That One.” She frowned. “And there are men who abuse their wives, women who can’t leave because they don’t have funds to their name, because they have children they’re protecting...”

“Yes. There always will be.”

“That’s stupid.” Molly snapped. “Nobody should be trapped like that.” She scowled into the streets. “I want to change that. I know it’s not much, but... I want to find a way to protect women, help them get away from those kinds of situations and into a new life. I want to find a way to let ladies choose their profession, let them have money for themselves.” She let out a sigh. “I just... don’t know how.”

A long, long pause.

“Prostitution pays well.” Hands held up the money they’d stolen. “This was from one night. The Warden never kept more than a night’s worth there, so it has to be.”

“I don’t want to make anyone go through what we did.”

“I’ve done it before. If you control things, it’s not too bad.” The woman shook her head. “It was just not being able to pick clients and being trapped there that made That Place so bad, for me.”

Molly pursed her lips. “Not everyone will want to do that.” She didn’t want to do that.

“No,” Krism agreed. “But you’re a seamstress. There’s always a demand for that. I’m sure you can find high-paying clients.”

Molly tilted her head, thinking of the Kjellbergs. Those orders had been the thing keeping a roof over her family’s head several times.

“Housekeeping, too. It’s hard when you’ll be fired as soon as you’re married or get pregnant, but...” The woman in the back nodded seriously. “If we could control that, then it’s steady work. Doesn’t pay as much as prostitution, granted, but we all know how to do it.”

Molly nodded slowly, turning over ideas in her mind.

“Men aren’t going to like this,” one of the women warned. “Some of this is illegal, too. They're going to try their best to stop you.”

“Let them try.” She narrowed her eyes. “Use the money for tickets and for clothes.” She glanced out the window as they crossed the Charles, staring towards Beacon Hill. Towards the Kjellbergs. “I’ll get more. I’m going to help women. I can’t stand by and just watch.”

“They’re going to shut you down. They’re scared of women.”

“They can be scared of me all they want.” Molly straightened her shoulders. “They can call what I do illegal. That’s fine. I’ve killed a man. After that, starting a mob should be easy.” She nodded decisively. “A women’s protection mob.” She turned around, meeting the eyes of each of the other women. “I’m going to need people across the country, people who can help women start new lives in new places. Do you want to help?”

♣♥♠♦

Her house was too quiet these days, with just her inside. Her parents weren’t due back yet, and even with two of Wade’s letters waiting for her in the mail and several visits from the police as she filed her own kidnapping report, she found herself alone with her thoughts far too much. It was almost more unnerving than thinking of hiding what had happened.

It didn’t last long.

“Krism tells me you’re starting a mob.”

Molly jumped, nearly spilling her tea as she read the day’s newspaper, and snapped her head to look at the source of the voice—then gasped out loud as a tall feminine figure with a white and purple mask stepped into view.

“How’d you get into my house?” she demanded.

“I’m a Faceless.” The figure shrugged. “Breaking and entering is pretty much the easiest part of that.”

“Faceless? What’s- Who are you?”

The Faceless walked up to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, sitting down. “You can call me Minx. I’m Krism’s... friend. Her housemate.”

Molly nodded slowly. “Does she know you’re Faceless?”

“Oh, yes. It’s not something I keep from...” Minx cut herself off. Her head tilted, clearly examining Molly. “She’s my girlfriend. I don’t keep secrets from her.”

Ah. That would do it. Molly nodded slowly, then leaned back in her chair. “Do you always wear that mask?”

“You’ve... never heard of the Faceless, have you?”

Molly shook her head, sipping at her tea. “Care to enlighten me?”

Minx stared at her for a long, long moment before reaching up and unfastening her mask. “Sure.” She leaned forward. “But let’s make something clear. You impressed Krism.” She grinned. “I want in on this mob you’re starting.”

Molly glanced at the mask now sitting on her table. “I’m assuming that mask means you’re already in a criminal organization.”

“Of course.” Minx shrugged. “And one I don’t ever want to leave. But they’re going to want information on you and your mob anyway, and if I give it to them, then they’ll leave me—and you—alone.” She raised an eyebrow. “More or less. Not to mention, you’d have a trained fighter and specialist in poisons on your side.”

Molly set her tea down absently. “Poison, you say?”

Minx grinned. “See? We’re going to be great together.”


End file.
